Page 32 of Something Like Sunflowers

“He looks just enough like him.” I don’t mean to say it out loud, but I’m thinking that didn’t work out how I intended because Lemon’s looking at me like I have three heads.

“What?” She whips her head in the man’s direction. “You mean Garrison?” Lemon shakes her head. “No, that is the worst idea possible for you, babe. Trust me.”

“That is Garrison?” I rub at my eyes, thankful for smudge-proof setting powder and waterproof mascara, as I squint for closer inspection purposes. “There is no way that pimply heap of skin and freckles grew up to be that.”

He looks like Hunter on steroids.

The crowd rumbles as Jeremy comes out from the back with two pitcher sized goblets on a silver, mirrored platter. “What do you mean, he’d be the worst possible decision for me?” I ask as I watch Jeremy work.

He’s fancy with his bartender moves, slicing strawberries and popping bottle caps into the air.

Casting another quick glance in Garrison’s direction, our eyes meet, and he cocks his head at me in invitation.

“He seems good enough for a one and done to me.”

“You’re bad!”

Lemon slaps me, like we’re friends. Maybe we are? I smile, but only just a little, keeping up my walls and all.

“Still, can’t you find someone else? He’s—” she pauses, “well, let’s just say I know stuff about him. He’s battling demons within his soul that no woman can fix. He’s broken, Dev. And he just drinks his days away. Barely even takes care of his farm.”

“Who cares when it’s a one-night stand?” I argue. “Did he kill anyone?”

“No.”

“See! It’s fine. Besides, he has to look right for me to get this out of my head and move o—”

Whoops, I’ve said too much.

“Has to look right for what?” Lemon eyes me suspiciously, but of course she already knows. I try to avoid the subject either way.

“The pinkies!” I say, changing her focus to the obnoxiously large beverage before us. I’m sort of confused why they aren’t, well, pink, but the cheers from the crowd get louder, and I certainly can’t ask Lemon over the noise.

We each have a giant blue drink that’s a mix of rum, grenadine, and fruit. Jeremy lights the liquid on fire then throws a handful of cinnamon on each drink, making the flames spark up around us and the crowd roar.

It reminds me of the Fourth of July. The display of lights and colors, while the whole town surrounds one another and cheers for the sake of cheering.

The crowd whoops and hollers before they break off into a mix of line dancers and table minglers, and finally, it’s just Jeremy, Lemon, and me as our drinks light the bar. And when we pour the lemon juice Jeremy gives us into our drinks, they turn from blue to bright pink before the fire is extinguished. We clink our giant glasses together and chug them down.

Then, Lemon Perkins and I do something we’ve never done before.

We hug. And it feels right.

I peer into the sea of tables resting beneath the neon lights, and somehow, I already knew who I’d see in the far-right corner beside the pool tables. He doesn’t look my way, and that annoys me. He knows I’m here. The whole bar was just chanting our names so loudly, he couldn’t have missed it.

I shouldn’t care. I won’t care. He didn’t care when he tricked me with the pageant.

I continue to feed myself lies, but we all know I do care. It’s Hunter. And I have some lessons to teach him. Then a light bulb sparks as I realize Garrison might be able to help me teach those lessons. But first, I’ll need bait.

“Hey, Lem? Wanna dance?”

Lemon smiles at me and links her arm with mine.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter 15

Hunter

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